


Debasement and Domination

by PapuruKakugan



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alpha Derek, Alpha Jackson Whittemore, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Blow Jobs, Breeding, Dubious Consent, Dubiously Consensual Blow Jobs, Forest Sex, Humiliation, Knotting, M/M, Mating Bites, Mpreg, Omega Stiles Stilinski, Omega Verse, Public Sex, Self-Lubrication, Spit As Lube, Werewolf Derek Hale, Werewolf Mates, Werewolf Sex, Werewolf Stiles Stilinski
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-17
Updated: 2016-11-03
Packaged: 2018-08-15 12:29:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,046
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8056444
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PapuruKakugan/pseuds/PapuruKakugan
Summary: Stiles always lets Jackson use him, humiliate him, and hurt him. He's debased and objectified, utterly ruined to Jackson's amusement.But when he comes home and Derek smells the lingering scent of another Alpha he goes wild. A tender and careful lover that Stiles is so in love with goes positively feral in an attempt to overwrite the scent on Stiles' skin.Derek never hurts him, but wrecks him.-----Tagged as Non-Con for Jackson/Stiles because while Stiles doesn't say no or fight, he doesn't actually consent either.





	1. Debasement

**Author's Note:**

  * For [nephilim667](https://archiveofourown.org/users/nephilim667/gifts).



> For nephilim667 who asked for Sterek and Jackson in another fic, but couldn't be feasibly fit into the plot. I hope you like this! XD

He’s trapped in here. Caged in by tanned arms slick with sweat from practice. He’d been told to stay behind, to wait. He didn’t want to. But he did. He waited until the rest of the lacrosse team had showered, changed and left him alone. Scott had given him curious looks as he stalled; fidgeting with his shirt, picking at imaginary stains; chipping the caked on mud off his cleats; checking the netting of his lacrosse stick; performing elaborate warm down stretches even though the only muscles he used were the ones in his ass from benchwarming.

Now different muscles in his ass are going to be used. Stretched. Filled. Fucked raw.

Jackson has his arms pinned by his sides, their hips flush as a tongue licks the sweat off Stiles’ neck. He’d come into the changing room late off the pitch, killing time and pitching balls expertly to an unmanned goal. He’d waited until all their teammates had left, smirking as he watches McCall’s head disappear around the corner. ‘ _Wish you could watch what I’m about to do to your best friend.’_

“You’re so ripe Omega.” Jackson’s voice whispers against his skin, sending shivers down his spine. He moans as his neck is licked, nipped and sucked on. His arousal tenting in his jockstrap, confined and ignored by the Alpha.

He’s spun around and planted face down on the bench, ass in the air, limbs hanging on either side. Jackson sits behind him parting his cheeks to view his tight hole. The Alpha growls and presses a thumb over the opening making Stiles grunt and jolt forward. He’s not wet, he never gets wet for Jackson.

A glob of spit lands on his hole and a finger roughly enters him. Stiles closes his eyes and whines at the burn, bites his lip as another finger joins in. “So fucking tight for me.” Jackson mutters as he scissors the nearly unlubed hole, pulling and tugging on the red rim. Stiles is breathless and digging his nails into the wood of the bench, making more crescent marks to join the ones already there.

With another application of spit to his hole Jackson deems him ready and lines up his dripping cock, smearing precum around the rim and slowly popping the head in and out. Stiles’ lungs feel tight, there’s just enough pain for it not to be pleasurable and cause his erection to die. But he doesn’t fight back. He never has.

Jackson finally pushes his fat length deeper, carving a space for himself until he’s fully sheathed and gripping bony hips for leverage. With a snarl he pulls out slowly and thrusts in quickly making Stiles cry out. Jackson grins and licks his teeth as the tight heat clings around him, he changes the angle to find the sweet spot he then proceeds to abuse. “Sing for me Omega.” Stiles does. He whines, groans and moans as his ass is pounded without mercy, his prostate hammered with unending force, Jackson's fingers digging red marks on his sides.

Stiles’ feet are kicked out from under him so his chest his flush with the bench, Jackson sliding him over it like a ragdoll as he whispers filthy things to the stale air around them. “Gonna be a wreck when I’m finished.” “You were made for this.” “Drown you in cum like the whore you are.” “Good little fucktoy.” The comments are accompanied by light alternating smacks to his cheeks, his hole tightening each time making Jackson laugh and hit him harder.

His cock is being rubbed raw on the bench underneath him. It’s fattened up again from the stimulation of his prostate, precum sticking inside his jockstrap. Stiles doesn’t know what to feel as Jackson yanks on the straps crossed over his cheeks, pulling his trapped cock tighter against his stomach; there’s so much pain and _pleasure_.

Jackson’s pounding gets faster as he grunts, his knot swelling inside Stiles’ abused hole, tugging on the rim going out before being pushed back in again. Just before the point of no return Jackson wrenches his fully inflated knot out of Stiles and cums over the gaping hole, over his back and is stilling coming in hot spurts as he manhandles Stiles onto his knees. The knotted cock is stuffed down his throat, salty streams of cum pouring down his throat causing him to swallow in reflex.

Jackson forces the knot against Stiles’ lips, “Suck bitch, suck down my cum- Don’t fucking look at me!” The chastisement is coupled with a harsh thrust that makes him gag, his lips flutter against the swollen knot. Fingers interlace behind his head and keep his mouth tight against Jackson’s spurting cock and pulsing knot. He can barely breathe but he doesn’t fight. He never does.

After 10 minutes of keeping Jackson’s cock warm while he grinds his knot on Stiles’ lips, he pulls back and lets the tiny dribbles of cum smear all over Stiles’ face. Jackson lifts a leg and drags his cleat over Stiles’ half-hard cock, giving a humoured huff when Stiles whines in discomfort.

Jackson’s cock is going limp so he runs a circled hand from base to tip, catching all the fluid before rubbing the mix of drool and cum over Stiles’ head. Jackson sighs and cracks his neck, pushes Stiles away with a hand to his face and turns to shower and change.

Stiles follows, stripping off his sticky jockstrap and trying to stay upright on wobbly legs. Jackson jeers as Stiles washes his still gaping ass, “Red looks good on you Stilinski, white does too.” “Bet you can see all the way to Mexico down that hole.” “Should let the entire team tag in next time, maybe let McCall knot your mouth, God knows it’s the only way to keep you quiet.” “I wonder if you spend chemistry hanging of Harris’ knot he’d give you a passing grade.”

There’s a wall of heat behind Stiles as Jackson pushes his body against him, pressing him into the cold tile as a thumb hooks into his opening. “After the game on Monday I’m going to knot your ass, then your mouth. Choke you on my cock and make you beg for it. Nothing more than a warm hole aren't you Omega?”

Stiles’ back is cold once more as Jackson leaves the showers to dress and leave. He spends 5 more minutes rewashing his clean body methodically before quickly drying and re-emerging into the main changing area. Jackson is long gone.

He relaxes minutely and continues dressing before flicking off the lights and heading for his jeep. It’s Friday so the student’s carpark is deserted as he unlocks and climbs in, wincing at the burn of his ass on the seat. He turns out of the lot and heads home thinking about his dinner-for-one as dad is on duty tonight. He doesn’t pay attention to the turns or even remembers waiting at stop lights but he startles when headlights are right on his tail. He frowns and wonders who it is. Red eyes flash in the rearview mirror and his heart picks up.

The car disappears before he turns into the Stilinski driveway, swallowing as he makes his way inside. The second car doesn’t appear but it’s driver is already waiting in his room, red eyes, fangs, claws and a feral look in his eyes. _Derek._


	2. Chapter 2

It doesn’t hurt when Derek slams him up against the wall, hand wrapped around his throat, claws pricking the delicate flesh. He goes limp when a thumb pushes at his jaw and exposes his pale neck; sharp fangs immediately scraping the skin, hot tongue lathing over his pulse, growling breaths puffed out over his collarbone.

The pressure around his neck increases for a moment before the Alpha takes a step back and starts to undress. Stiles swallows dryly and peels off his own clothes. He knows what will happen if he doesn’t obey.

He’s barely gotten the last of his clothes off when a clawed hand curls around the back of his neck and drags him over to the bed, forced face down with his ass in the air. The hand around his neck is removed but he doesn’t dare move. Claws are raked down his back, thin red lines almost drawing blood as the Alpha’s tongue follows them down to the swell of his ass. The flesh is grabbed roughly and parted as Derek inhales deeply before letting out a vicious snarl.

Stiles suddenly feels true fear. Derek has only ever made _that_ sound before something he’d been fighting has it’s spine torn out. He whimpers and tries to bare his neck but the Alpha above him snarls again and digs his claws into his ass cheeks. Stiles doesn’t move a muscle, doesn’t even twitch, he just pants shallowly into his bedding as he waits for the Alpha’s next move.

He feels cold as Derek continues to snuffle his skin, letting out low snarls when he finds an invading Alpha’s scent on the Omega’s flesh. He works his way up the pale body, gripping firm but gently, kneading and petting goosefleshed skin, licking enthusiastically at all the places where Stiles sweats; the backs of his knees, the top of his ass, the crease of his groin, his underarms, collarbones and behind his ear.

Stiles moans as a sudden gush of slick leaks from his hole. He barely registers the wet dribble down his thighs before Derek slides his cock through the mess, pinning him down further into the bed as he ruts viciously against Stiles’ ass. Derek’s foreskin tickles against his fluttering rim as the Alpha sinks his fangs shallowly into the Omega’s shoulder blade and cums over him. Derek’s release is massaged into the skin like lotion as he huffs in the fresh scent of his claim. _His_ claim, not Jackson’s.

The snarls are quieter now, but more frequent as Derek rubs his body and hands over Stiles’ skin; immersing the Omega in his claiming scent. Stiles just wants Derek to do it, to _finally_ give him what he can’t ask for. What he’s too afraid to ask for, lest it be rejected.

Stiles whines and buries his face into his pillow, arousal dimming. Derek pauses and makes a questioning noise, Stiles doesn’t answer. Derek makes the noise again in the silence but when he still gets no response he pushes Stiles’ hips flush with the bed and covers his body with his own like a warm blanket. Derek nuzzles into Stiles’ neck, licking and nipping the skin to soothe the Omega. He’s too far gone into his instincts to form words but desperately tries to ask what’s wrong.

Stiles still doesn’t respond. He can’t explain his actions, doesn’t _want_ to. He doesn’t want to admit that he lets Jackson use him as a warm hole because he knows Derek will loose all inhibitions and _take_ him, rather than make tender love like he usually does. Don’t get him wrong, Stiles loves Derek’s gentle ministrations; the slow rock that crests to a mind numbing peak; the deep kisses that make him want to climb inside the Alpha’s skin; the strong arms that hold him close as they grind and moan softly; he loves it all, wouldn’t give it up for anything. But every once in awhile he wants those strong arms to hold him down; possessive and biting kisses; hard thrusts that make him breathless; he wants to be _fucked_.

Stiles also never wants to admit that he wants Derek to truly claim him, to leave his mark for the world to see. So that everyone knows they belong together, that they are one, that they chose each other. He’s too afraid that Derek will run away somehow if he makes that desire known, that Derek will convince himself he doesn’t deserve anything good in his life. Stiles knows that a mating bite from an Alpha werewolf will turn him, but he doesn’t care anymore. He’s never had a desire to be a part of the supernatural community more than he already is, but the idea of being Derek’s mate, as a wolf, and cementing himself as the pack ‘mom’ more than he already is… it’s something a lot like contentment. He knows he’d never be forced to be a homemaker with Derek, that he can fight at his Alpha’s side as equals, be seen as his own person and not an Alpha’s accessory.

Stiles realises it’s pretty shitty of him for acting this way, to try to force Derek’s instincts to come to the fore and claim him, to put Derek in that position, but he can’t get the courage for anything otherwise. He can’t lose what they already have, he can’t lose _Derek_. This is the only way he knows how to fight for it without scaring off who’s he’s fighting for.

He turns to face Derek when the Alpha whines despondently. There are tears burning in his eyes as the Alpha looks over him, a frown marring those handsome features; Stiles doesn’t like it. He forces himself to smile and blinks away the tears, nuzzling softly into Derek and rocking back into the still hard length pressed against his lower back.

The Alpha rocks slowly with him, still careful of the upset Omega, cooing softly. But soon he’s shifting down to run his throbbing cock between Stiles’ cheeks, the head catching on the rim and sliding in when Stiles bucks back with a groan. Derek feels his lust boil in his veins as he sinks deep into the Omega, _his_ Omega. Oh, how desperately he wishes that were true. He wants nothing more than to be the only scent rubbed into Stiles’ skin, to overpower everything else that’s dared touch him.

His annoyance comes back to the fore as he remembers the horrifying scent of another Alpha all over Stiles, the deep possessive claim he’s never dared act upon grows stronger. An instinct he buried deep and fought fiercely whenever he found Stiles smelling wrong. It became harder and harder each time. Every time he let his primal side smother Stiles’ body, he would take and all he could think was _MateMineBreedKnotProtectClaim_ . Then he’d wake up to Stiles’ body tired and sore; pleasantly so, Stiles always assured him, but Derek felt guilty all the same. Torn between shoving the Omega away for his own good or holding him close and telling him how perfect he was, beautiful, strong and _wanted_.

Derek growls and sets his teeth over Stiles’ neck in lieu of a bite when his knot starts to form. Stiles whines and rucks back eagerly in a desperate bid to be tied. Derek pants through his nose as his thrusts turn shallower the fatter his knot becomes, the hot, slick channel massaging his cock as his balls draw closer and the need to _breed_ rouses his wolf. A pale hand curls in his dark hair and pulls him forcefully against the skin between his teeth.

Stiles bares his neck more and keens, digging his fingernails into Derek’s scalp as the slick sound of their fucking reverberates around the room, his gut tightening and breath shortening as Derek’s quickly expanding knot draws him over the edge. He barely registers whispering out a barely coherent plea, “ _Mate_ ”, before sharp teeth sink into his skin and tear into his very being.

Everything goes white; in pleasure, in pain. Stiles’ skin stretches and tightens, his jaw locks and feels slack, his eyes sharpen but lose focus, his ears ring with noise but he feels deaf, he feels everything and nothing. Years pass in seconds as a cry is torn from Stiles’ throat, his hole tight around Derek’s knot, the Alpha’s seed being deposited deep inside. The teeth in his neck recede and a wet, hot tongue gently lathes the weeping wound, a croon washing over his nerves as he feels something awaken inside him, something that wants to claw it’s way out and roar.

It’s all new and strange but at the same time it’s welcome. Stiles can feel it below the surface, some kind of hindbrain ready to leap forth when called. His wolf is born and it’s scared. It’s unsure of it’s own power, it’s place in the world, and it wails.

Derek snaps out of whatever haze had pulled him under when his Omega cries out for him, a Beta wolf seeking their pack Alpha. Derek growls low in his throat and clamps his teeth over the now scarred mating bite, a hold to reassure Stiles’ wolf it’s not alone, it’s Alpha is here to keep it safe. Derek cages Stiles hips between his knees, knot still buried, and crosses Stiles’ arms over his chest before covering them with his own. He rolls them over and away from Stiles’ own release, keeping his precious Omega tight against him; crooning, growling softly, licking and nuzzling every place he can reach until the bond of Alpha and Omega, Alpha werewolf and Beta werewolf takes hold.

And when Stiles wakes up to the warm cage of Derek’s arms, neck aching and wolf purring happily, he doesn’t know why he worried for so long. He rolls over to face Derek, knot long slipped free, and rests his forehead against his mate’s. He smiles at his Alpha, joyful and safe. Derek smiles back, stroking his cheek with a look of such pure devotion it makes Stiles’ heart ache.

Stiles isn’t just an Omega anymore. He’s mated, claimed, and the Beta of an amazing Alpha werewolf. He has a true place in the pack now, a future he won’t walk alone, and a home in Derek that he can return to no matter what.

He’s been taken, but he’s been set free.


	3. Chapter 3

Jackson hadn’t known why Stiles was missing for the previous few days of school, but by Monday everyone knew that Stiles was freshly mated, and every supernatural in the vicinity was aware that their Alpha had a new Beta, a mate, a _second_.

Stiles smirked as he passed Jackson by his locker and flashed his wolf eyes in some sort of victory. Orange eyes, not gold. His status as the Alpha’s mate was as clear as the involuntary submission Jackson was forced to show by averting his eyes and bowing his head to his Alpha’s second. Jackson could only grit his teeth and cuss him out mentally. Stiles grinned and his hand wandered absently over his stomach, caressing the flat plain that will start to grow in 3 months.

* * *

 

 _Stiles ass was sore, deliciously stretched and messy from Derek’s knot. They lay together in bliss, newly mated and tired from fucking like animals. Stiles had a thought; they_ were _animals to a certain extent, werewolves with a deep connection to nature. He grinned and turned to his Alpha flashing his eyes, his body buzzing as he slipped from under the covers, “Come and catch me Alpha.” He goaded his interested mate, clearly not too tired for another innumerous round._

_Stiles dashed down the stairs and out the back door of the rebuilt Hale house, sprinting through the darkness without a stitch of clothing. He hit the treeline at full pelt and a tangible sense of freedom overtook him as the wind whipped his hair, skin hot in lust, slick and come dribbling down the backs of his thighs._

_Derek stalked after him, a quiet but overbearing presence that would strike fear into the heart of any prey other than his mate, who felt only giddy with excitement. It wasn’t long before Stiles was pinned against a large tree as Derek licked over the back of his neck, hair bristling his over sensitive skin as Derek nipped at him, parting his thighs with a knee and sliding his dripping cock over Stiles’ rim._

_Stiles could see out of the corner of his eye that Derek was in his beta shift; eyes, fangs, teeth, claws and fur sprouting to join the freedom of nature around them. Stiles groaned shifted as well, tilted his neck back to rest on Derek’s shoulder and leaving a stinging bite on his Alpha’s jaw. A low warning growl rumbled in Derek’s chest but Stiles, smirking cheekily, only did it again; he wanted it rough and rigorous._

_Derek dragged Stiles away from the tree and positioned him on all fours, mounting him without warning and sinking deep into his wet Omega. Stiles moaned in a high pitch and pushed back, immediately rewarded with a cruel, delicious pace that had his over hard cock coming within seconds._

_They fucked in the dirt, beta shifted and leaving scratches and bite marks wherever they could reach, making out messily through mouths full of teeth, and lighting up the darkness with their eyes. They growled and snarled like pit dogs, each trying for the upper hand and willingly losing when that perfect spot was hit, surrendering to the others’ will time and time again._

_Stiles was back on his hands and knees when Derek finally let his knot grow, tugging on Stiles’ tight rim and eliciting a shudder when the first dribble of searing hot come flooded his already drenched insides. Derek wrapped clawed hands over the come swollen abdomen of his Omega. He stroked it tenderly and Stiles sighed, pushing back onto Derek’s expanding knot with a whine and a command, “Fucking breed me, Derek.”_

_The Alpha snarled and tugged him closer, forcing his full knot deeper and biting harshly into Stiles’ shoulder over his mating mark as he emptied another load into his mate’s fertile body. Thoughts of seeing Stiles swollen with child and raising their cubs together flashed before his eyes and he whined with the desperate need to make it real._

_Stiles seemed to understand Derek’s thoughts and reached behind him to card thin fingers through dark hair. Pulling out from his beta shift he nuzzled his Alpha and pressed gentle kisses to his temple, wrapping their arms over Stiles stomach and praying his new species would help him get pregnant faster. For all his talk of not wanting to be a stereotypical Omega, Stiles really wanted this with Derek; pack, cubs, and a den that they will care for and protect together._

_His own version of a family._

* * *

Stiles had expected his dad to be angry. He slunk home and tried to creep noiselessly up the stairs knowing full well that his father was awake and waiting at the kitchen table.

“Get in here.”

Stiles cursed under his breath and steeled himself, he would defend his choice with everything he had. He entered the kitchen, unconsciously curling a hand low over his stomach as he faced his father. The Sheriff stood and took a step closer before taking notice of the way Stiles was instinctively protecting his stomach; the exact same way his mother would when they were trying for children.

“Are you hurt?” He asked softly. Stiles frowned and shook his head.

“And you- you consented?” He winced at that question but he _had_ to get it out, both as a father and as an advocate of the law. Again Stiles frowned but nodded, “Yeah Dad, I- Yes.”

The Sheriff searched his son’s eyes for a moment before sighing, “You’re a werewolf?”

Stiles stiffened slightly, he was still unsure as to how his father would react to his only son becoming some kind of monster. But he can’t change it now, doesn’t _want_ to change it now, not when he has his mate, his pack, his promise of a _cub_ ; his future _._ Stiles flashed his orange eyes at his father, not a threat, just a demonstration; the Sheriff’s heart skipped a beat all the same.

Stiles hadn’t expected to be hugged, had to fight off the urge to _ClawMaimSnarl_ and protect his possible cub before he was surrounded by the scent of his father, _his_ pack. He sagged in his father’s arms and snuggled deeper, giving in to his new base instinct and searching out that warm pulse point where the scent was strongest. Breathing the scent of them together cemented his knowledge that he’s made the right choice, chosen the right mate; that everything is going to be okay, that his plan worked and everything had turned out perfectly.

**Author's Note:**

> Fancy a chat? Leave a comment or come find me on [Tumblr](http://papurukakugan.tumblr.com) x


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